Men of Honor
by ChoCedric
Summary: This is the story of what would have happened if Draco had never let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts the night Harry and Dumbledore went to the cave in HBP. Did Dumbledore survive the encounter with the foul potion he was made to drink? Tearjerker.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Men of Honor

By: ChoCedric

"I am not worried, Harry. I am with you."

Those words echoed in Harry's frightened mind as he apparated a weak and shaking Dumbledore to Hogsmeade. He was really ill from the potion he had drunk in the cave, and Harry felt self-disgust roil within him as he remembered he had been the one to force the old man to drink it. He felt even more terror grip at him as Dumbledore sank onto the ground.

"Professor!" Harry gasped. "I'm going to go and get help. You're going to be okay, I promise. But I'll have to leave you for a moment while I ..."

But before he could continue, there were running footsteps, and Harry saw Madame Rosmerta coming towards them at an extremely fast speed. "Merlin, Albus!" she cried as she came upon the sight. "Mr. Potter! What's wrong with Albus?"

"He's really sick, Madame Rosmerta," Harry said, panicked. "Would you please help me get him up to the school?"

"Of course, of course," said Madame Rosmerta hurriedly, and the two of them walked as quickly as they could while supporting Dumbledore's weight. The old man said nothing the whole way there; he had his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and it seemed as though he was in immense pain.

Minerva McGonagall met them at the great front doors of the school. Her face paled as she looked at the three of them. "Albus!" she exclaimed. "Merlin, what's wrong? Mr. Potter, what are you doing? It's past curfew!"

"It is okay, Minerva. I have been with him," said Dumbledore weakly. "Please go and inform Remus and Nymphadora that I have returned." He gave his deputy a look which clearly said, please do this for me, this is very important. Reluctantly, McGonagall did as she was told.

Harry and Rosmerta, still supporting Dumbledore's weight, walked him to the hospital wing. As they went inside, they were greeted by a horrified Madame Pomfrey as she discovered Dumbledore's plight. When she, too, demanded to know what Harry was doing with him, Dumbledore simply gave her the same answer as she had Minerva: "He was with me the entire time, and he will stay, Poppy. It is important."

"Shall I stay, too?" asked Rosmerta worriedly.

"No, my dear girl," said Dumbledore gently. "But thank you for all you have done for me tonight. Go home and get some sleep. I will be fine," he said, reassurance in his blue eyes.

"If you're sure," said Madame Rosmerta, forcing herself to turn away. "Please feel better, Albus," she said as she closed the door of the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey and Harry helped to settle Dumbledore onto a bed. "Mr. Potter," the matron then said, "you must leave me while I examine Albus. I promise that I will let you know how he is after I check him."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore said, "Please do as Poppy asks, Harry. You can be sure that she will keep her word."

The look that Dumbledore gave Harry was the same look he had given McGonagall, and so Harry was forced to leave the Headmaster's side. He went and sat on another bed while the mediwitch set to work. He heard the two of them talking quietly for some time, and then there was total silence.

As the minutes passed, Harry grew more and more nervous. There was something in the air, a somberness in the atmosphere which he did not like. He twiddled his thumbs, thinking over the night's events and hating himself more and more every minute for making Dumbledore drink that potion. Please, please let him be okay, he prayed.

Finally, at long last, Madame Pomfrey came over to Harry, and one look at her face made dread pour through Harry's heart and soul.

"Mr. Potter. Harry," she said, and her voice was more gentle than Harry had ever heard it before. "Albus needs to talk to you."

Harry's entire body went icy cold, and Pomfrey gave him an understanding, sympathetic look as he walked, seemingly on autopilot, to where he knew the Headmaster was located. He drew back the curtains, and was stricken to see his mentor looking even more sickly than he had before.

"My boy," Dumbledore said softly, and looked into Harry's eyes. What the boy saw there made him go completely numb, and suddenly, he was filled with a sickening clarity he could not deny. "You knew, didn't you?" he said quietly, not breaking eye contact with the man.

"Please explain further, my lad," Dumbledore said in an infuriatingly calm tone.

It was as though the man expected what Harry's next move would be, for he weakly raised his wand, which was lying on the bedside table and whispered a Silencing Charm, making it so that no one else in any other part of the wing could hear their conversation.

And he was completely right, for Harry's numbness suddenly turned into corrosive anger as he shouted at the man, "How could you? You knew, didn't you? That stuff's killing you, and there's nothing Madame Pomfrey can do! You knew it was going to happen, and you made me force it down your throat anyway!"

"Harry, please relax," Dumbledore said calmly, and this made Harry's rage escalate.

"I WILL NOT RELAX!" he snarled, betrayal and self-hatred churning within him. "Damn it, you're freaking dying! You're freaking DYING, that potion was poisonous and you didn't even tell me!"

"Harry, I did anticipate that I would not survive this encounter," Dumbledore said quietly, gazing compassionately at the boy he had mentored all year. "But some sacrifices need to be made."

"No!" Harry screamed, furious beyond all comprehension. "You--you--you! You made me force you to drink that stuff! I've killed you, Professor! You've made me a murderer, now I'm no better than Voldemort and ..."

"HARRY!" Dumbledore's voice was commanding and loud, despite the obvious pain he was in. "You will stop that this instant! I never want to hear you say that again!"

"Well then, I'll say it after you're dead, and you won't be around to hear it!" Harry bellowed. "How could you do this? How could you?" He began to pace, his heart pounding a mile a minute. This could not be happening. First Cedric, then Sirius ... he didn't want to be responsible for yet another person's death!

"Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling sadly. He knew exactly what the boy was thinking. "This is not your fault. Please do not interrupt me," he said as Harry's mouth was about to let out a retort. "I gave you orders, and you followed them. You did the right thing, my boy. This was a willing sacrifice on my part, to help end Voldemort's reign once and for all."

"How could you say that?" Harry spat. "And how can you be so calm?"

"I am not afraid of death, Harry," Dumbledore answered. "I am an old, old man, and all year, I knew my time was running out. I knew tonight would probably be my last night on this Earth." As he spoke, Harry was horrified to discover that the Headmaster was trembling more and more with pain and fatigue.

"Yeah, yeah, the next great adventure and all that crap," Harry sneered sarcastically. "How can you say I'm better than Voldemort now? I've killed you!"

"It is the poison that Tom Riddle brewed that is killing me," Dumbledore said. "And I know you are very angry with me right now, and you have every right to be. But you will see in time, young lad, why I did this. You are beginning to be a leader, and throughout the next while, until Tom is defeated, you will have to make some very hard decisions. You will come to see that your acts tonight were the right ones. You are a young man that I have grown to be proud of over the years."

"How can you be proud of a murderer, Professor?" Harry choked, angry tears filling his eyes.

"Harry, I mean it," Dumbledore said, and there was a deep sternness in his voice. "You are not a murderer. It is my time to go. Please, please do not hate yourself for this. Please don't give Tom what he wants. Harry, please don't let your anger and grief overpower you. That is not what I want for you."

Harry sank to his knees by Dumbledore's side. "Why didn't you make Snape go to the cave with you?" he said bitterly. "He had no problem killing my parents, he probably wouldn't have given two hoots about making you drink that potion!"

"Harry, please," Dumbledore said, and there was a real plea in his voice. "You are giving Tom exactly what he wants, the way you are reacting right now. I understand how you feel about Severus Snape, and I know I cannot make you understand how immensely sorry he is for the deeds that he performed in his youth. I know that some wounds are simply too deep for the healing, and that you will never trust him. But please respect the fact that I do."

"Why do you trust him so much?" Harry demanded angrily.

"I know you will hate me even more for saying this," said Dumbledore, "but that is not my story to tell. Maybe one day he will have the courage to face you and explain the whole story."

"Fat chance," said Harry. He once again looked into the Headmaster's pain-filled face, and suddenly saw such sadness and heartbreak in his tired blue eyes that all his anger evaporated, leaving him feeling so ashamed that he wanted to hide his face from the world forever. What was he doing, shouting at a man who was dying a horribly painful death, sacrificing his life for the greater good? He should be comforting the Headmaster right now instead of yelling himself hoarse at him.

"Harry, there's no need to apologize. Please look at me," Dumbledore said gently, for Harry had turned his eyes away. Dumbledore once again knew exactly what his student was thinking. Harry reluctantly turned his gaze back to the old man, and he saw no condemnation or judgment in his eyes.

"Professor, how am I supposed to do this without you?" Harry said shakily. "We haven't even destroyed this Horcrux, let alone found the rest of them! I need you, sir!"

"Harry, I know you can do this without me. You need to be strong," Dumbledore said, his voice growing weaker still. "I have started you on your journey. Remember what you learned this year about Tom Riddle's past, and I am sure you will find the missing pieces of the puzzle."

"But how am I ..." Harry started, putting his head in his hands in defeat.

"You do not need to go it alone, my boy," Dumbledore said, shuddering in pain, making Harry's heart clench. "You have plenty of people to help you. You have your friends, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, the Weasley parents, and many other people that will be all too willing to assist you."

"But you know everything about Voldemort!" Harry insisted in a panicked whisper.

"I do not know everything. I am not omnicient," Dumbledore argued. "I am only a man; you can see now that I am not immortal."

"Harry, we are all here to help you," the hoarse voice of Remus Lupin suddenly said. Harry, through his haze, hadn't even noticed he had arrived on the scene.

"Yes, we are," came another voice, and Harry's heart twisted at the voice of Ginny Weasley.

"Harry, one word of advice to you," Dumbledore said, his voice weakening even further, his face contorting in pain again. It proved just how strong the old man was by the fact that he wasn't screaming. "Do not push your friends away. I know what you are thinking, that it will make them safer if you tell them you do not need them. Your friends are your greatest strength, lad. Voldemort would know you would still do anything for them even if you pretended to not care for them anymore."

"So don't even try it, Potter," Ginny warned, her voice shaking a little. "I'm with you for the long haul, okay?"

"Ginny, how did you know I was here?" Harry asked softly.

"Marauder's Map," Ginny replied, coming over and grasping Harry's hand within her own. "Listen to Dumbledore, love. He's right."

"It has been a joy working with you," Dumbledore whispered, and Harry knew the man's time was running out. Burning tears filling his eyes once more, he took the Headmaster's blackened and withered hand, trying desperately not to let them fall. "Your parents and Sirius would be so proud of you."

"Thank you, sir," Harry whispered back, staring into Dumbledore's gentle eyes. "Please, please don't leave me," he pleaded, knowing he sounded like a lost child.

"Harry, I will never truly leave you," Dumbledore said gently. "As long as you remember me, I will never truly be gone." With that, the man closed his eyes.

Harry buried his face in Dumbledore's robes, tears beginning to fall down his face. "I'm so sorry, sir," he sobbed. "So sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Harry," Dumbledore whispered. "You did not cause this to happen. It is my time. I am off to the next great adventure." As Harry began to sob harder, the old man struggled to speak his last words as he said softly, "Remus, take care ... of the Order. And take care ... of Harry."

"I will, Albus," Remus said, his own voice choked. "Thank you for everything."

"It was my ... pleasure. I will always ... be with you," said Dumbledore. Harry held tightly to the old man's hand as he felt his chest rise and fall a few more times. Then, time seemed to stop, and Dumbledore's body was very still.

Harry buried his face deeper into Dumbledore's robes, sobbing in earnest, grief and guilt pouring over him in waves. This was too much to bear. Throughout the past year, he'd developed a strong relationship with the Headmaster. It had been agonizing, watching the man die. Cedric's and Sirius's deaths had been quick, heart-stopping shocks, but this had been a true nightmare from hell. And no matter what his professor had said, he knew he would blame and hate himself for a long, long time.

"Harry, he's gone now," Remus said in a gentle voice, trying to pry Harry away from the Headmaster's body. "Harry, you must listen to what he said. This is not your fault. You must do everything you can to honor his sacrifice."

"No!" Harry yelled through his tears, holding on more tightly to his mentor's limp hand.

"Harry...'" Ginny said gently, tears falling down her own face. "You need to let go. It's over now, it's all right."

Harry, feeling that things would never be okay again, finally removed his soaked face from Dumbledore's robes and removed his hand from the man's charred and blackened one after some more comforting coaxes from Ginny. Numbly, he let her lead him out of the hospital wing.

With tears still streaming down his face, he let her guide him to the seventh floor and to the Room of Requirement. Once there, she pulled the distraught teen into her arms, letting him weep against her, self-hatred and guilt and grief and anguish pouring out of him.

When his sobs finally subsided, Harry looked up at his girlfriend with swollen, tortured emerald eyes. "Wh-what am I supposed to do now?" he muttered, totally defeated.

"You're supposed to listen to Dumbledore," Ginny said again, as she had before in the hospital wing. "He's absolutely right. Harry, your greatest strength lies in your love and caring for others. Ron, Hermione, and I won't let you push us away; we know we're in danger, but please know that we're willing to do everything we possibly can to help you during this time. As Dumbledore said, you don't have to go through this alone."

"Ginny, I killed him," Harry moaned miserably. "It was horrible! He was in so much pain, and he just lay there and took it!"

"Shhhhh, Harry, it'll all be okay," Ginny soothed, knowing that persisting that he didn't kill his mentor wouldn't work right now. She just needed to be there for him, to hold him while he poured out all his grief. Seeing that he was fighting tears again, she whispered, "It's okay to cry, Harry. Don't try to hold it in."

With that, Harry lost all restraint again, and he completely broke down. Ginny held him once more, rubbing his back and stroking the messy hair that she loved so much. Scattered phrases like "it's my fault" and "I can't go through losing another person!" left his mouth as huge, racking sobs shook his body.

Ginny had never seen the boy she loved looking so lost, so vulnerable. She knew that Harry had had a hard life, living with the Dursleys who totally neglected him, and then coming to a world where everyone worshiped him. She continued to hold him as sixteen years of pain and anguish tore out of him. She kissed his eyes and squeezed his hands, letting him know she would always be there for him, and she vowed never to leave his side. She knew it would be a long, hard road ahead, but doing this for Harry would be worth any ordeal she had to go through.

When Harry's sobs finally ceased, he lay in Ginny's arms, almost asleep. "I'm so tired," he muttered.

"Then sleep, Harry," Ginny said softly. "I'll stay here with you all night, I promise."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, opening his eyes and looking into Ginny's with pleading.

"Of course I'm sure, love," Ginny whispered, and she began to rock him in her arms, singing a lullaby that her mother had sung to her when she was a little girl. She had also sung it a few years ago, the summer after the Chamber of Secrets, when she had been having horrific nightmares of Tom Riddle. She continued to sing until Harry's breathing was deep and even, and she knew he was asleep.

She then bowed her head in silent prayer. Professor Dumbledore, she thought, I promise I'll take care of Harry for you. Wherever you've gone, I know that you're at peace now. You've done your job, and I knew it was your time. Whatever happened tonight, I know you were one incredible man. I will do all I can to honor your sacrifice; you can be sure of that.

And with that, she rested her head against Harry's and fell asleep herself, knowing that whatever happened, she, Ron, Hermione, and every other faithful supporter of Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore would face it together.


End file.
